


i don’t think i could stand to be (where you don’t see me)

by xHeyKYJx



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Body Dysphoria, Boys In Love, Boys in Skirts, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Gender Dysphoria, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Sapnap Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Sapnap-centric (Video Blogging RPF), lowkey tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:06:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28878444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xHeyKYJx/pseuds/xHeyKYJx
Summary: It’s date night, and Sapnap has a sudden bout of bad feelings. Luckily, Clay’s around to help.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 289





	i don’t think i could stand to be (where you don’t see me)

**Author's Note:**

> TW: body dysphoria, slight gender dysphoria (not mentioned, but heavily implied), crying

The skirt isn’t fancy by any means. It’s plain and black, and the elastic of the waistline hugs his middle a little too tightly, just enough to form small love handles. The hem reaches mid-thigh, showing off miles of tan skin and unshaven hair, and just the sight of his legs makes Sapnap cringe. The skirt is just short enough to show how big his thighs are, how even when he stands with his feet shoulder-width apart they still touch at the top. Before his thoughts can spiral too much, he flits his eyes up toward his face. The wings of his eyeliner aren’t completely even, one the tiniest bit longer than the other, and the acne on his forehead is still showing stubbornly through three layers of concealer. His lips are cracked and dry, and his upper lip is marred with a scab from where he’s been picking at it lately.

He’s supposed to feel cute, with all this makeup and the skirt, but he feels ugly and shameful, two times too big for everything around him. He fiddles with the hem nervously, suddenly feeling on the verge of tears. A glance at his alarm clock tells him that Dream will be here any second to pick him up. _Fuck_. He’s not ready. He’s _ugly_. Sapnap presses the heels of his palms against his burning eyes, fighting the ache rising in his throat. He can’t go out like this, and he staggers blindly to his closet. Skinny black jeans, but the prospect of wearing pants suddenly makes him sob, and _wow_ , that’s never happened before. He tosses them aside. Light-washed ripped jeans only make him cry harder, adding to the horrible, empty _hurt_ in his chest. He’s never felt like this before, like he might collapse in a fit of agony at the mere sight of the clothes that he usually likes. He’s about to grab for something else when the doorbell rings.

Dream is here.

 _Shit_.

With trembling fingers, Sapnap wipes at his eyes and turns back to the full-body mirror. His face is a complete wreck, eyeliner running in smudged lines over his blotchy cheeks, and his eyes are still leaking sluggishly. Looking at himself makes the tears well up even faster, and he hurries to turn away from his reflection. He doesn’t know what to do; he can’t open the door looking like this. In a panic, he grabs a hoodie off his bed and tugs it on haphazardly, already stumbling out into the hallway. He tugs the hood up as he wobbles toward the door, and he takes a deep, quivering breath before he pulls it open.

Dream smiles at him at first, wearing a simple white button-down and black jeans, but his expression quickly drops at the sight of Sapnap’s face. “Baby,” he starts, taking a step forward, and suddenly Sapnap can’t take it anymore. He sobs, vision blurring with the sudden force of his angst, and throws himself into Dream’s arms. It feels good, Dream’s strong, warm arms coming to wrap tightly around his waist, and he cries openly into his neck. It takes a long time, for the tight, brutal ache in his chest to loosen enough for his cries to slow into sniffles and the occasional hiccup. Dream holds him the entire time, rubbing circles into his hips and lower back with his thumbs, and when he’s finally finished, Dream gently pushes him back to look at him.

“Hey, baby,” he whispers, reaching up to tuck a curl behind Sapnap’s ear, and Sapnap looks sheepishly at him. “Hi,” he whispers back, hands fisting anxiously in the paws of his sweatshirt. Dream smiles at him, slides his hand down to cup at his cheek and thumb carefully at his wet lash line. “Do you feel better?” Sapnap nods shyly, and Dream smiles even wider, eyes taking on a fondish glow. “What if we just stayed inside for tonight?” He suggests, and Sapnap feels his shoulders relaxing before he’d even realized how tense he is. “Yeah.” He nods again. “That sounds good.”

Dream waits in the living room while Sapnap changes into baggy sweatpants and washes his face. No amount of makeup wipes or face wash will hide the redness of his eyes and cheeks and nose, but he feels better having gotten rid of the drying tears and ruined eyeliner. He dabs treatment on his acne, pulls his hood back up, and shuffles into the living room.

Dream is slouched comfortably on the couch, remote in hand as he searches Netflix for a movie for them both, and he turns to look at Sapnap when he steps through the doorway. “Hey, beautiful,” he greets, and Sapnap blushes. _I’m not beautiful_ , he thinks, and _fuck_ , why are his eyes stinging again already? He tries to blink away the mist in his vision, but Dream has already noticed it. “Oh, honey,” he hums sadly, already opening his arms wide, and Sapnap squeezes his eyes shut at the invitation, crawling readily into his arms as the first tears drip down his cheeks. The feeling is back, like his chest is rotting into something desolate and sad, and he can’t help the whimper that escapes him on his next exhale. Dream shushes him quietly, pulls him around a little so he’s straddling Dream’s lap, upper body curled into his chest. Sapnap grabs at his shirt, suddenly desperate to hold onto him, to hold onto _something_ for fear of falling too deep into his own bad feelings. He sniffles against Dream’s collarbone, not quite crying yet, but the tears are definitely flowing. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, pressing his forehead into Dream’s shoulder to ground himself. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Dream just shushes him again, running his big hands up and down along Sapnap’s sides. He feels a sudden pressing need to talk about it, to explain to Dream exactly why he’s having a meltdown when they should be having a date, but he can’t find the words to describe how disgusting he feels, and his helplessness against his own pain makes him cry harder.

“I just- I—“ He chokes on a sob, and Dream pats at his back encouragingly. “I feel so _bad_ ,” he weeps, still grasping fruitlessly for the right words. “An’ just _looking_ at myself—“ He breaks off into a fit of tears. “I don’t know what’s _wrong_.”

By the time he calms down again, his head is beginning to throb in time with his heartbeat, and his tummy is churning with nausea. He sniffles against Dream’s damp skin, struggling to take a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. Dream cups the back of his head, fingers curling in his hair, and his other hand rubs at his spine evenly. “For what it’s worth,” he starts softly. “I thought you looked beautiful. You _always_ do.” Sapnap hiccups and tightens his grip on Dream’s shirt. “No matter what you wear, no matter how you think you look, I’ll always love you.” Sapnap whines, a weak and trembling sound, in an attempt to mask his third cry of the night. Dream just laughs, warm and sweet, and presses a kiss to his cheek. Sapnap sits back, resting his full weight on Dream’s thighs, and looks him in the eye. “I love you, too,” he whispers, and Dream abruptly leans forward and kisses him on the mouth, short but tender. “My beautiful boy,” he murmurs against Sapnap’s lips, and Sapnap smiles in spite of himself. His chest feels lighter again, like the rotting _ick_ has finally receded, and he finally takes a deep breath again.

Maybe he’s not so bad, after all.


End file.
